The Bay Area pop-rock band scored big hits, then hit the skids, before rising back in ukulele-fueled triumph

For almost any musical act, running off the tracks often signals that the end may be near. In the case of Train, though, derailing is precisely what brought the Bay Area pop-rock band back to life.

The group, which one two Grammy Awards in 2002 for “Drops of Jupiter,” had watched its fourth album, “For Me, It’s You,” sink almost without a trace in 2006. Then came lead singer Patrick Monaghan’s debut solo album, 2007’s “Last of Seven,” which — like his subsequent solo tour — landed with a resounding thud.

“When I made the wrong solo record and it wasn’t a successful outing, that’s when I thought it was over. That was a really difficult time for me,” Monaghan recalled. “Had my album done well, Train would have been in my rear view mirror. They were very unhappy; they didn’t like me and I didn’t like them.”

Putting bruised egos aside, Monaghan, guitarist Jimmy Stafford and drummer Scott Underwood decided to give Train one last shot. They did so, however, only after jettisoning keyboardist Brandon Rush and bassist Johnny Colt. The result was the aptly titled 2009 album, “Save Me, San Francisco,” which took off after its ukulele-fueled song, “Hey, Soul Sister,” became an unexpected hit.

“Maybe we kicked one or two of the guys out; maybe they kicked,” Monaghan said, speaking from Seattle. “When we got back to do ‘Save Me,’ we knew it was going to be our last record, unless people cared again. So, we were like: ‘Why don’t we the three of us focus on the music, remove our (band) managers, start over and try to love this process?’ We really loved making that record together, and that’s why it was a success.”

Now on tour to promote its latest album, 2012’s “California 37,” Train performs here Thursday night at the San Diego County Fair’s Grandstand Stage. The band’s latest music, while more accomplished, is not dramatically different from its earlier work.

“I think music means something different to us now,” said Monaghan, 44. “What happened — and the reason we lost touch and had to come back from (the brink of) death — is that music became a source of income, as opposed to doing something positive...

“Music can make people reminisce about their loved ones, or be used at a funeral or at the birth of child. We forgot about that. It became a source of income, and then we got competitive (about): ‘Who’s getting more (money)?’ It was like, ‘Man, we’re not a team anymore,’ and we knew it.”

So, is failure or success a better impetus for artistic success?

“That’s a really good question,” Monaghan said. “I said just yesterday to my wife: ‘I’m not writing songs out of desperation.’ When I was desperate, not so long ago, I was writing songs like ‘Hey, Soul Sister,’ and I didn’t think about them too long. I wrote the song and moved on, because I had more songs to write. I knew it was a matter of; ‘Just write, don’t look back.’ Now, I can take my time and analyze more.